


Number 8

by dgraymanz



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, M/M, Post-Break Up, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgraymanz/pseuds/dgraymanz
Summary: It was such a relief to let go of it, to feel a thread of happiness run its course through his veins again, for the moment ignoring the fact that this would bite away at him later.Mew was the cure, the antidote, to this pain that he had been feeling these past few months. There was no holding back anymore.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	Number 8

**Author's Note:**

> nobody asked but here’s some songs i listened to while writing this if u wanna listen or whatever.
> 
> [city lights](https://youtu.be/Da8wwVzEROg) by motionless in white  
> [i dont love you](https://youtu.be/ODl-QDUcmt8) by my chemical romance  
> [calm snow](https://youtu.be/8VuX9hIK45o) by i see stars

...

Gulf watched in disinterest as the beer sloshed around in his glass. 

It was pretty warm and disgustingly flat by now, since he had been nursing it for the past hour. 

_ Where is Mild and Boat?  _

It was Christmas Eve, and this would be the first time they were all able to get together since Gulf’s birthday at the beginning of the month. 

The two of them had basically begged him to come celebrate the holiday, but now they were late and Gulf was debating whether or not he should just leave.

He didn't  _ want _ to be out. Especially not here, of all places.

Memories started to seep in of stern, sepia eyes and ash brown locks hidden underneath a pink beanie. 

He gripped the handle on his glass tightly. 

_ NO. STOP. _

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of something else. Anything. 

It wasn’t working.

What did Dr. Singto tell him at their first meeting to do in these kinds of cases? That's right, take a deep breath in and—

_ "Gulf." _

He didn’t even need to open his eyes, could already recognize whom that voice belonged to; could pinpoint the exact moment when a need to breathe regularly, became void and a rush of unsaid emotions filled its place, filling his lungs and making it all that much more hard to breathe.

Gulf opened his eyes and looked to the owner of  the voice that brought the nostalgia of a happier time that seemed almost ridiculous now. 

Mew.

Mew, hair now dyed entirely black. The length grown out, the ends grazing the bottoms of his ears. Strands partially covering his forehead. Wide, opal eyes that were usually sweet and luminous, now looked sunken and penetrating, dark circles prominent as they gazed unsettlingly deep towards Gulf, waiting for some sort of response. 

He was just as breathtakingly handsome as Gulf remembered. 

He noticed that Mew now had a piercing in his left ear, a sort of metallic, dagger shaped earring that dangled but wasn’t too long. Gulf vaguely wondered when he had it done. It looked good, suited him.

All Gulf could do for a minute or two was concentrate on his breathing. Make sure the sound of his breaking heart wasn’t loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.

The past three months had been unbearable, and he truthfully didn’t know how he was still alive. 

On some days, he made it through the front door of his apartment after classes and let it all out in his room, tears falling steadily, head buried in his pillow. Other days, he would swiftly excuse himself from his lesson and barely make it to the bathroom before the sob climbed up his throat and out of his mouth.

If it hadn't been for Mild and Boat being patient with him, supporting him, not calling attention to to the days where he was bad, he didn't know if he would still be here.

"You haven't seen me in months and you have nothing to say to me?" There was a hitch in Mew’s voice, and his eyes narrowed in anger but the raw pain was evident in his whole demeanor.

There were too many words and none at the same time. 

Gulf clenched the front of his own shirt, trying to shove down his own anger that had begun to blossom. 

He pushed his beer away from him as he stood, wanting, no— _ needing _ to leave, not even bothering to grab his coat. 

Gulf didn't even get two steps away before a strong grip on his arm halted him. He looked down at it, defeated, and sighed heavily.

"Have a drink with me." Mew’s voice held no room for questions.

Gulf turned back around in silent acquiescence, knowing what a terrible idea this was but keeping his gaze on the bar in front of him. 

The bartender poured two shots of an amber liquid for them. Must be Glenfiddich, he thought. Always had been Mew’s favorite in mixed drinks, for some reason. He usually kept a bottle of it on hand in his apartment, though where he got it from had remained a mystery to Gulf. He had somehow never asked. Just another unanswered question in the book of Mew and Gulf.

They drank their shots, no toast, no words. 

Gulf grimaced as he felt it slide down his throat. He had never liked the taste of it, and Mew knew that.

He waited for Mew’s next move, still choosing to remain completely silent, the awkward atmosphere becoming almost suffocating, his legs itching to run away and never look back just like that night, three months ago.

He felt Mew’s eyes on him, staring him down as if he was trying to figure something out. Until finally,

"You're coming with me." 

Gulf couldn’t help but nod. He had expected something like this anyways, like it was just written out to happen. They both needed it.

Silently, Gulf slipped on his coat, wrapping his burgundy scarf around his neck. He grabbed his skully out of his pocket, covering the somewhat messy dark locks, as Mew turned to head out.

Gulf treaded behind him, head bowed. A small part of him felt pity for Mild and Boat, for when they did show up they would find him long gone with nothing but the air of an impending regret that was soon to be born. 

Once outside, they trudged through the snow, boots crunching loudly on the sidewalk. 

Gulf figured they were headed to Mew’s apartment, that was only a short walk away. He decided not to ask. 

Christmas lights were on in each store they passed, and the night was filled with the virtuous laughter of children and adults, unknowing of the invisible clouds of rain that seemed to pour over the two males that walked by. There was so much joy in the streets as families celebrated the Christian holiday that often brought them together. 

Gulf hated it. It was a knife to his gut, lemon on his wounds.

"You followed me that night, didn't you?"

A pause. A frosty exhalation. A heart-breaking confession. 

_ “Yes." _

Mew nodded to himself, Gulf’s answer confirming what he already knew. 

He clenched his gloved hands into fists, and looked down, his longer than usual hair hiding his face and Gulf found it impossible to decipher what emotion he was experiencing.

They reached Mew's building, and the two of them climbed the stairs. The heavy sound of their footsteps on the wooden stairs was jarring against the silence that had fallen between them. 

Gulf’s heart thudded dully, everything that had changed in the past three months surfacing once more. 

It hurt, the ugly wound unknitting itself. Oozing infectious material back into his bloodstream.

The moment they were inside the apartment, Mew slammed the door behind Gulf, and pushed him against it forcefully.

"Why didn't you tell me? Huh? Why!” Mew’s face was inches away from him, his yells surely being heard in the next unit over. 

Gulf has only ever seen him  _ this _ worked up once, when— he stopped that train of thought. 

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it.

When he didn't receive an answer, Mew slammed his palms on the door, boxing him in. Gulf not even having the energy to flinch.

"Tell me, goddammit! I think I deserve to know." Mew gazed desperately at him, mouth turned down into a horrible grimace, chest heaving.

Gulf met his eyes and regretted it. 

Mew looked inconsolable, and beyond hurt. He wasn't used to this. He had always thought that Mew was the stronger one. 

“It was for the best—“

An incredulous and derisive laugh erupted out of Mew’s mouth, sounding almost manic. "Are you kidding me? For the best? That you lied to me? Said you didn't love me anymore?" 

A feeling, as if a vise had a grip around his heart and was slowly, painfully clenching it started to make its presence known to Gulf, and he breathed out slowly, trying to ease the pressure. 

It was no good.

He looked down, recalling that day, the worst of his life. He didn't want to see the wrecked look that was written across the beautiful face in front of him, and was fully conscious of the fact that he was breathing in the evocative aroma that was Mew. Sandalwood and a faint hint of mint. 

This was dangerous. He felt his walls beginning to crumble. He would give anything, do anything for Mew. But he couldn't go back to that place, who they were then. 

He couldn’t forgive Mew.

"You shouldn't have lied to me, Gulf." Mew touched his warm forehead to the younger’s. 

It was the first skin-to-skin contact between the two of them in three months. It made Gulf warm, instantly. Mew always had that effect on him.

"You shouldn't have lied to me, either."

A few beats of silence. 

Suddenly, smooth lips smashed into Gulf’s, and not surprisingly, easing the vise-like feeling in his chest. 

It was such a relief to let go of it, to feel a thread of happiness run its course through his veins again, for the moment ignoring the fact that this would bite away at him later. 

Mew was the cure, the antidote, to this pain that he had been feeling these past few months. There was no holding back anymore. He returned the passionate kiss just as eagerly, a hand on the back of Mew’s neck and lightly holding onto him. 

Gulf could feel the raging pulse in the other's neck, his skin now burning up underneath his fingers.

Mew pulled back without warning. Gulf looked at him in confusion, mind hazy with arousal. 

With narrowed eyes, Mew unzipped his thick, black coat and threw it one-handedly across the room. He quickly unwounded his dark scarf from around his neck, and tossed it toward his coat as well, eyes entirely on Gulf. 

He briefly took in the sight of Mew dressed in a tight-fitting, white v-neck and black slim fit jeans. 

When he was done, Mew stalked purposefully back to Gulf, removing his coat and scarf as well, throwing them like he had done his own, andassertively moving a toned leg so that it was in-between Gulf’s and pushed in on his groin.

The pleasure that spiked through Gulf had him scratching the short ends of his nails into the wooden door. 

Mew reconnected their lips, kissing him hard and aggressively, taking all he wanted. Gulf felt his lips being abused, mashed, nipped at, the older man working his mouth over quickly. Lips were bitten, tugged away from his teeth, as the siege continued. 

They were both moaning now, the familiar passion that had united them for so long showing its face yet again. It was undeniable. 

Gulf felt one of Mew’s hands slide slowly up his arm, over his shoulder, curving at his neck, continuing its trek upward. He curled his fingers into the black skully on his hair, yanking it off his head.

Gulf hadn't been with anybody since the last time with Mew. The sudden return of these feelings was immensely pleasurable but it stung spitefully at him, trying to take him back to three months ago, where life had been perfect. 

How fucking bittersweet. 

He didn't know if he could do this. 

Mew grabbed a handful of his hair just then, yanking his head back, exposing his throat. With the other hand gripping Gulf’s shoulder, he was able to effectively restrict his movements. 

Dominating him already. 

He moved his thigh again against Gulf’s growing arousal, beginning to attack his neck. He felt the skin there being bitten, sucked on. He was being eaten alive. 

But it felt so unbelievably good. Complete bliss to give in to somebody else, let them take control of the situation without having to make any decisions.

He let out a high pitched whine when Mew tightened his grip on his hair, knocking his head back into the door. Whether on purpose or not, Gulf didn't know. He didn't really care. 

He put his hands on Mew’s ass, pulling him closer, rubbing himself onto him. With a growl, Mew broke off of his neck, turning his face to the side and letting out a moan of his own.

Gulf was hit with a wave of deja vu. 

This same exact position, in the same exact place was where they had already done something like this. Full of emotion and forgetting their problems while dry humping against the front door. 

He knew without a doubt that this would only further hurt the two of them. He didn't care how it would effect himself, but he knew that it would further break Mew. 

The elder had always been emotionally wild. Doing and saying whatever had been foremost in his immediate thoughts. Completely devoting his entire being into whatever emotions that would race through his heart, always emotionally available for whoever needed it, especially Gulf. 

So he wasn't thinking clearly of what this could do to him. Gulf didn't want to shatter his heart anymore than he already has, so what he was about to do next would be what was for the best for both of them.

"Mew. NO!” Gulf shoved him away with all his strength. 

Mew hadn't been expecting it, so Gulf was able to get out of his restrictive embrace, stepping to the side to put more distance between the two of them.

"You're a complete asshole." Mew’s voice was full of an exposed hurt and a sullen anger.

Gulf’s obsidian eyes met Mew’s faintly cruel ones. He didn't know how to respond. What did Mew want out of this? 

And then he understood. 

The forceful kissing, the aggressive hair-pulling, the war on his neck. Mew was more than angry at him. Maybe he hated him.

Gulf had wounded him by adding to the pile of people in his life that had said or proved that they didn't care about him, didn't want him, didn't love him. And that pain turned into anger which turned into motivation and guided all of Mew’s actions. 

He needed to be angry at Gulf in order to fight off the hurt. And letting him do what he wanted to him right now would help make that happen.

Gulf closed his eyes softly. He could do this. He _would_ do this. 

He walked toward Mew’s room, pulling off his shirt as he walked, revealing golden, perfect skin. Thinner than Mew was accustomed to seeing. 

He sat down on the bed, unlacing his boots and pulled them off. They made a loud thunk as he let them fall carelessly to the floor. He walked back to the doorway, head down, eyes trained on the floor, bracing himself for the onslaught that was sure to come.

The quick footsteps that sounded on the wooden floor were the only hint that Mew was coming toward him, for him. 

He wrapped his arms around Gulf, picking him up from under his thighs, roughly throwing him on the bed. 

A huff escaped from him, exhaling due to the force with which he was thrown onto his back.

He looked up to see Mew had his head tilted to the side, analyzing him critically. 

“Why are you doing this?" A hard edge to his voice. A clench of his jaw.

Gulf could do this. He  _ would _ do this. 

“You ruined us, Mew. YOU." He shoved down the tremor in his voice that was threatening to make itself known. 

Instead, he swallowed heavily. "You lied to me, you could have gotten my family and friends hurt. Or fucking  _ killed._" 

He summoned all of his pain into a glare, throwing it back in Mew’s face, tone full of malice, the words themselves a slap across the face. 

“I hate you. There's only one thing you could ever do for me now." Gulf despised himself for even thinking of doing this, for saying this. But it was for the best.

Mew’s face faltered for a few seconds, revealing a fresh wave of raw emotion, before it smoothed into a hardened mask. 

Gulf had never seen such animosity, directed towards him, on Mew’s face before.

With a grunt, Mew took off his shirt and boots. He climbed onto the bed, staring at Gulf for a moment with bloodshot eyes, fueled by the hurtful words he had hurled at him. 

He grabbed onto Gulf's thighs again, effortlessly turning him around so that he was on his stomach. 

Gulf felt movement behind him, the tips of his fingers coming into contact with Mew’s knees as he straddled him from behind.

Without warning, he felt Mew pulling at his hair again, and his strong left arm forcing its way under his arm, across the front of his body, gripping his right shoulder so tightly he was sure it would be bruised tomorrow.

"Is this what you wanted? Huh? You want me to fuck you?" Mew spat the words at him, each one sounding like a curse. 

He pulled Gulf back against his chest, his breath sounding ragged in the younger’s ear. 

Gulf remained silent, letting Mew do as he wished. He couldn't turn his head to look at him, though. Because then Mew would see nothing but hurt. Barely contained despair. He couldn't do that to him.

With no answer, Mew let go of his hair and lowered his hand to the button on Gulf’s jeans. 

After unzipping them, he rudely forced his way under the band of Gulf’s underwear, gripping his cock tightly. Completely disregarding the pained and brief cry that came out of his mouth, Mew began another battle on his neck, one that he would undoubtedly win.

"Hnnh–ahhh!" Gulf felt his breath hitch, the room around him turning hazy again. 

Mew was masterfully handling his cock, gripping it more firmly than he had been used to. Slowly and agonizingly, he pumped Gulf, alternating between rough kisses and soft bites at his neck.

He was completely at Mew’s mercy, and it seemed he wasn’t going to hold anything back.

Gulf could feel Mew’s breathing intensify, out of control. He pushed Gulf foward, away from his heaving chest, muttering a curse. 

Mew roughly pulled off the other's jeans and boxer briefs, uncaring of Gulf whimpers of pain in his lack of consideration and haste. 

He got off the bed, circling around to his side table. Gulf could see him never removing his gaze from him out of his peripheral vision, shoulders back, chest out. Rifling around in the contents of a drawer, Mew soon found what he sought after.

Gulf felt movement on the bed behind him as Mew once again took position behind him. He heard the sound of a plastic top pop, and then silence.

"Fuck!"

With no warning Mew thrusted a barely lubricated finger into Gulf, moving quickly through the motions of preparing him, skipping a step or two. Quickly, far too quickly, he added a second. Gulf grimaced, clenching his eyes shut.

"You're so tight, Gulf. Like a little bitch."

Having received no response but labored breathing, Mew decided he was ready. 

He took off his jeans, kicking them to the side. His briefs soon followed, giving himself a pump or two, eyeing the slender male body in front of him. 

_ Gorgeous, _ he started to think, but then immediately switched that off. 

Weakness, he thought instead, disdainfully. He sneered, climbing back onto the bed, grabbing onto Gulf’s hips tightly.

"You're all mine right now."

He thrusted inside of Gulf, having applied a minimal amount of lube on his cock. 

Mew felt Gulf tense up and a cry of pain escaped from his lips. His own face tightened in discomfort, but he ignored it.

"Your pain is mine, too."

Gulf felt the elder begin to rock back and forth inside of him, grunting lewdly as he thrusted without abandon. 

It hurt for a couple of moments, until Gulf felt his body relaxing, finding it impossible to not enjoy the way Mew was absolutely and completely dominating him. 

He felt himself responding, pushing his hips against the forward motion of Mew’s. The next thrust came with an electric current of pleasure, as Mew hit the right spot, causing him to cry out.

"M-Mew! Hnnn—!"

"You like that? Hmm?" Mew thrust harder, wrapping one arm around the center of Gulf’s abdomen, pulling him close once again. 

The other hand trailed down and latched onto his erection, swollen with need. He yanked on Gulf, squeezing him, pumping him, owning him. 

Gulf looked down towards the bed sheets, not really focusing on much, until his eyes caught on something that stood out. 

The room was dimly lit by the light peeking in through Mew’s window, the soft glow illuminating their joined bodies in the moonlight. And Mew’s long fingers contrasted deeply with the dark item decorating the fourth digit.

He still wore his ring.  _Their_ ring.

Gulf felt himself spiraling out of control, a weathered house caught in the onslaught of a strong tornado. His emotions varied from second to second, fighting for dominance. Tears of heartbreak started to cascade down his face, landing as silent droplets on the cotton coverlet. 

This was too much. 

Mew relentlessly fucked him hard, holding him tightly, making him his over and over and over.  But then, out of nowhere, Gulf felt warm drops of liquid dropping down onto his shoulders, rolling down his back. And with a flash of realization, Gulf knew what was happening.

"Why, Gulf? Why?" Mew’s voice was deep, but muffled, as he spoke into his neck. 

More tears gathered on Gulf’s shoulders. Mew was hurting. And he was powerless to stop it. It ate away at him, like a scavenger on a carcass.

"Why?" A jerk on Gulf's cock. "Why?" A rough bite on his neck.

Gulf felt himself approaching his climax, his body completely in Mew’s control. 

With one last pump, he came, yelling out in passion and despair. Mew pumped him a few more times, gripping the spent cock firmly, before returning that hand to one of Gulf’s hips. He pushed in harder than before, once, twice, three times, moaning and breathing heavily. And then Gulf felt his warm semen flood his insides, marking him in the one place he could anymore.

He breathed in and out a few times, still holding Gulf close to his chest, letting the attachment linger. Almost as if he knew this would be the last time. 

The remnants of his tears trailed down his cheeks. He wiped angrily at them, pulling out of Gulf, and walking to the bathroom. 

Coming back, he saw Gulf lying down on his side, staring into nothingness. He scowled and crawled into bed.

Part of Gulf's mind was aware of the fact that Mew had returned to the bed and had lied down, his back to him. 

This was completely foreign territory for him, for Mew had always needed him close, always needed to touch him. Especially as they slept. 

They were silent for a few moments, until Mew spoke.

"I hate you too, Gulf."

And then Gulf knew. 

What they had just done hadn't helped to fuel what he had originally thought was Mew’s anger or hate toward him. Mew had only given him what he thought he wanted. 

Sex. The one thing that Gulf had just told him was the only thing Mew could do for him now. 

And Mew had given all of himself, making himself vulnerable again to the man that he loved. Further proven by the fact that Mew still wore the sign of his love on his hand. 

The realization had Gulf turning his short fingernails into the skin of his palm, loathing himself. 

Mew didn't hate him.

Silence returned to the room, and Gulf listened as Mew’s breathing eventually evened out, his body relaxing into the abyss of sleep. 

An hour or so had passed, and Gulf could feel an intangible internal timer beginning to warn him that his time was almost up. 

He reached out a tentative hand, running his fingers lightly through the now dyed black hair in front of him. 

It was soft. The moonlight that found its way in, casted a ray of pale light into the room and on Mew’s sleeping body. 

Gulf’s eyes followed the shape of his body, the line of his spine, the angular shoulders, every single detail burned into his memory.

"I love you, Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat.” 

His voice was that of a soft whisper, almost as if the wind blowing outside had voiced it.

It was now time to leave, a part of him knew. And he could never come back. Though it was the last thing he wanted to happen, another part argued. 

Slowly, so as to not disturb Mew, Gulf lifted himself off of the bed and silently retrieved his clothing. He put it all on haphazardly, ignoring the semen seeping out of him, just needing to  _leave_. Whatever. He could clean himself once he got home.

He opened the front door slowly, locking it from the inside and stepped outside. 

The air out here was colder, and he reluctantly headed toward the stairs. 

Strangely, he stopped at the mailboxes on the first floor, and stared at number 8 for a few moments, tears running down his face. 

_ Jongcheveevat._

With a deep and weary exhalation, Gulf closed his eyes and then felt his body moving. Forward and away.

"Goodbye, Mew."

...

**Author's Note:**

> omg its an emo fuck everyone point and laugh!


End file.
